


Danse Encore Un Peu Pour Moi

by sk8rpssockpup (MissIzzy)



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Goodbye Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-16
Updated: 2008-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissIzzy/pseuds/sk8rpssockpup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can no longer compete.  You must win now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Danse Encore Un Peu Pour Moi

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a response to Stephane's first retirement.

On Tuesday Johnny Weir received an email from Stephane Lambiel consisting of only two sentences: "I can no longer compete. You must win now."  
  
Throughout the day, he really felt nothing about it besides basic shock. Of course he'd known Stephane was having problems, had known he might have to retire, but he hadn't truly believed he'd give in like this, and even if he had, Johnny would never have expected him to write that kind of email to him, to say that, especially when they'd barely seen each other, either on the ice or off, since Champions on Ice, because Johnny had locked himself down for Skate America.  
  
At practice, Galina asked him quietly if Stephane had told him yet, and he said yes, he'd emailed him. He didn't say what he'd written exactly. He'd known already he'd never tell anyone that. That was all they'd said on the matter, there'd been no more to say. She already understood the exact effects this would have on him, both good and bad. Maybe she'd even understood them better than he had at the time.  
  
She also turned out to be the only person he ever even told that Stephane had emailed him that Tuesday. Before Thursday, of course, he was required by honor to keep it to himself, and he didn't want to tell anyone anything afterward either.  
  
Wednesday morning he woke, and he was sorry to say he mostly felt relief. Not for the elimination of a another competitor, at least, but because he really was happy, ultimately, to have Galina and Viktor to himself again. He was especially relieved because he had not at all been looking forward to three competitions this year without Viktor. He hadn't noticed it at the time, but now that he knew Galina better he was aware that being without him at Cup of China really had frazzled her nerves pretty badly. Of course, they were still going to have to do Skate America while he was doing shows, but one competition without him was very different from three. His practices went so well that day he was able to do his own press conference that evening in great spirits, without a trace of the sadness that he really did feel for poor Stephane.  
  
Thursday the world found out, and Johnny's day passed without remark. He was mostly sad for Stephane now, but the sadness was passing. Or so he thought until Friday, when after practice he stepped into the shower and it sunk in that the affair was going to end, now, too.  
  
It had been a liaison of convenience, or at least that was what they had told themselves. Mostly consisting of sex in the facility's showers, handjobs and blowjobs and whatever Stephane thought his groin muscles could handle. It had been a strong comfort for Stephane, who had never managed to adjust to America, and Johnny, too, had found it greatly assuaged the feeling of loneliness that had now become a part of his everyday life. And if sometimes they held each other afterwards a little longer then the situation would warrant, or kissed a little more deeply, or saw something in each other's eyes that wasn't entirely safe, it was okay, because they understood each other. Johnny could have seen them happily indulging regularly for the next two years. Now it was to be no more than a fling, a flash of summer passion, one memory among many, and Johnny felt a much greater grief for that than he should have.  
  
After putting it off all week, Johnny sat down Saturday to try to write to Stephane, to wish him good luck in professional career and say goodbye, if nothing else. He spent ten minutes staring at the screen while the words refused to come. He went to practice and tried again, and still couldn't write. He decided to think about in Sunday while he was doing the laundry; with his busy schedule Stephane probably wasn't expecting an email from him before then anyway.  
  
Sunday morning he woke early, as usual, and lay in bed thinking about Stephane, and why he was having trouble writing him such a simple goodbye message, and Stephane's words to him. "You must win now." He was Stephane's second choice for the gold, as if he wanted Johnny to win if he couldn't. But  _why_? Why not Takahashi, who Johnny sometimes thought Stephane would identify with more? If Jeff hadn't retired earlier, would Stephane have written the message to him instead? Could Johnny bring himself to ask Stephane why? Lying there, Johnny could admit not only that he might not be able to, but it wasn't because he was afraid Stephane would express too much feeling for Johnny, though it would cause problems if he did. It was because he was afraid Stephane wouldn't.  
  
But before he could hope to figure out what to write, Stephane actually showed up at his door.  
  
He muttered something about leaving a couple of things in Johnny's house, since he'd been there once, but it didn't make sense for Stephane to fly all the way across the ocean just to collect his belongings, which could just be shipped back. He did say that he'd wanted to say goodbye to Viktoria in person, which was very kind of him, but Johnny didn't think that sufficient reason either.  
  
If Johnny had thought about asking Stephane to bed, he probably wouldn't have done it. When it spilled out of his mouth, his first thought was that he needed to quickly think of a way to take it back, because he knew it wasn't a good idea. But before he could, Stephane was on him, kissing hard enough to bruise, before actually hoisting Johnny up and carrying him upstairs. Johnny's own need came roaring to the surface; he barely had concentration enough to direct Stephane to the bedroom.  
  
He did also managed to voice a concern about Stephane's injury, about not aggravating it to the point that Stephane couldn't even do shows anymore, but Stephane shook his head, animal need filling his beautiful face, and he took Johnny brutally, pounding into him until both their moans filled the house. Johnny didn't know if he might still feel a little sore going into Skate America but it felt so good he only locked his legs around Stephane and tried to get him deep enough to split him in half. He came so hard he actually screamed, and when he came back to his senses Stephane had wrapped his arms around Johnny's shaking body, and was pressing anxious kisses to his face his whispering his name urgenly, "Johnny? Johnny?" Johnny turned his face and their mouths met, they kissed and kissed and they couldn't stop, Johnny couldn't stop, because when they stopped it would be over, and Johnny didn't want it to be over so badly it hurt.  
  
When they finally had to stop to breath, they kept their lips near each other, tried to breath each other's breath, and Stephane said, his voice broken,  _"Tu ne peux pas."_  
  
"I want to," said Johnny weakly. "Oh God, I want to."  
  
"But you want to win more."  
  
And Johnny cried, and Stephane was crying already, and they kissed more until they were hard again, and Stephane pulled himself up and rode Johnny, more slowly, eyes closed and his teeth sinking into his lower lip, looking like he was trying to savor every last moment of it as Johnny did the same, reaching out with his hands to touch and clutch at Stephane.  
  
"Remember what I write," said Stephane when at last it was over. "I mean it. You are skating for both of us, now."  
  
"How can I skate for you?" Johnny had to ask. "Why do I mean that to you? Don't answer that question if you can't be certain of your answer." Because Johnny was under no illusions; he knew how Stephane had to be feeling right now, and this passion might have nothing to do with Johnny himself. Stephane might even think it did right now, only to realize later that it didn't.  
  
"You... _tu es comme moi."_  He said.  _"Je..."_  but then he stopped, and shook his head; he could not be certain.  
  
And something tiny inside Johnny died, which left him in little doubt of his own feelings. But he only said,  _"Merci d'être honnête."_  
  
  
Stephane left shortly after that, kissing Johnny goodbye one last time, and Johnny stared out the window until he was gone. That night he cried himself to sleep.  
  
Monday he got up, went to the rink, and threw himself all the harder into his training. Even though his ass was sore, he did the spins Stephane had helped him improve, and did them better than he had, and he landed more clean quads than usual.  
  
Tuesday, along with everything else, he practiced his exhibition, and then it take a lot of willpower not to cry.   
  
Friday night, there was a thunderous applause for him at Skate America, and he felt as if the ghost of Stephane was touching the skin of his bare shoulder, and he went out to skate and win for both of them, and love Stephane that way, because there was nothing he could do but that.

**Author's Note:**

> Tu ne peux pas.-You can't.  
> Tu es comme moi.-You are like me.  
> Merci d'être honnête.-Thank you for being honest.


End file.
